The Attic
by Pugnacious Peace
Summary: Okay... Now, before you even read this, i want you to know that this DOES have references to Satanic worship. If you can't handle it, TURN AWAY NOW! This is the first of three stories. :D


_**I hope you like this... XP Believe it or not, this entire fic was written while listening to the music from the website of the 'Sword of the New World'. I was downloading the client. No, I do not own this game, nor do I claims rights to the songs.**_

_**WARNING! This story does have satanic ritual references, but I do NOT believe in this. Do not get offended, this is put in for horror uses only.**_

_**Well... Here goes... **_

_**--**_

The blond boy stared at the clock, his emerald eyes shining as the second hand moved. Slowly, almost painfully slow, the clock hands headed towards 2:30, the time that school got out.

"Hisoka... Hisoka?" The teacher said, wondering why the teen didn't even turn. "Hisoka. Pay attention!" He hit the top of the desk, and Hisoka jumped, looking forward.

"Sorry..." He whispered, looking down.

After around five minutes, the bell rang, and Hisoka was the first to jump up.

"Hisoka... I need to talk to you." The teacher said, sighing and standing to stop Hisoka from running.

Hisoka, growling, turned. "Yes, Mr.Tatsumi?"

"Your school work is slacking off... What's going on? Problems at home?"

"No... I've just been having problems sleeping, that's all."

Hisoka left, holding his books close to his chest. He yawned, setting his fingers on his soft lips. Opening the door to his locker, he looked in the mirror in the back. He gasped and dropped his books, seeing a woman coated in blood behind him, reaching out to grab his neck. Turning, he prepared to fend for his life, but nothing was there. Only the door to the teacher's lounge and students walking out of the school building.

Hisoka put a hand to his forhead, leaning down to pick up his books. As he looked into the mirror again, he seen his own reflection, normal. Reaching out with his left hand, he touched the edge of the mirror, cursing himself for the lack of sleep. Putting the books away, he listened to the constant chatter of the students around him, slowly fading. He shut the locker door, carrying his bag with him around his shoulder. He walked towards the front doors, smiling slowly when he went through, feeling the sun warm his flesh.

--

When he arrived home, his mother greeted him with a stern glare, holding a peice of paper in her hand.

"Your report card came in, Kurosaki..." She ground out, and his father stared at him, sighing and looking down.

"Mom, I told you, someone is stalking me."

"Who, then, Hisoka? How do you know if you've never seen them!?"

"Mom...-"

"No! I'm sick of you making excuses to get out of doing your work! You used to be such a good student, what happened!?"

"Mom, if you would just LISTEN, you would know!"

"Alright." His mother sighed and looked down. "Go ahead. I'm listening."

Hisoka plopped his bag onto the floor, leaning on the wall. "I know it won't make much sense at first, but I think.. The one who is stalking me... Is from my dreams."

"Your dreams..."

"Yes... Mom, I only see them in my dreams, and I only felt people following me since I had those dreams."

"Hisoka, that is just ridiculous! Do you really believe I will take your word for it!? Dreams are just dreams, they don't come true! Monsters don't pop out of dreams just because you feel threatened!"

"But mom-"

"No buts! You are grounded!"

"Mom! I am seventeen! I'm too old for this-"

"Then you're too old to be claiming your dreams to be real!"

"I-" But Hisoka sighed and dropped it, looking down.

He looked at his father, then grabbed his bag and ran up to his room. Once inside, he shut the door softly, looking around the room.

All of the mirrors were covered, same with the windows. The trunks with his old clothes and toys were locked shut with heavy duty padlocks, three for each. But his room wasn't the most disturbing. He looked up and pulled a chain on the ceiling, gulping softly. He hoped that _she_ wouldn't be up there again.

'She' was the woman who he had seen in the mirror. The woman who had been plaguing his mind for almost four years. Only recently had the mental attacks started.

He pulled the chain, and a set of stairs slowly descended. He moved out of the way slowly, grasping the edges and letting it fall slowly to the floor. He walked up the stairs carefully, grabbing a little light on his keychain to light his way.

--

The mirrors in the attic were also covered, but they were not his doing. He believed that the people who had lived there _before_ had done it. The walls were covered in satanic symbols drawn on the walls, most of upside-down crosses and demon heads, a few of pentagrams and goat heads. He always felt nervous while in the attic, but knew that was the only place he could figure out what was realy happening.

A painting of 'Nero's Cross' was on the far wall. He didn't remember it being there. Walking slowly, he reached out a hand. He began to get exited, going just a little faster to touch the wall, wondering if maybe.. just maybe.. he would feel the blood or paint on his fingers.

"Hisoka!" His mother shouted, peeking over the edge of the stairs in shock.

"What are you doing up her- Oh my god!" She cried, finally noticing the symbols.

"Hisoka! Get down here right now!"

"Mom, you do NOT understand,"

He looked back at the symbol. finally pressing his hand against the wall, he felt the wetness of the liquid on his palm. His eyes widened. "So...Someone was..." He backed up slowly, tripping on his own feet.

"Hisoka! Come down here! NOW!"

"M...M..." He couldn't talk. He felt cold. Freezing, actually. Hands reached through the floor, grabbing at his body. He gasped, struggling to get them all off. The hands were bloody, the voices that were most likely behind him rising in volume, previously unheard. The hands grabbed at his fighting arms, keeping him still. They held his feet to the floor, soon grabbing his head and pulling it down to the ground. He looked up at his mother, who was no longer his _mother_. It was the bloody woman, holding a sacrificial sword. She tilted her head, a smirk reaching her dead lips as she watched the hands keep him still.

"No...No!" He screamed, the lack of words dissapearing. "No!" He tried to thrash, but the hands kept him in place, nails digging into him with every move. He looked up, seeing the sword directly above him. The woman lifted it, aiming for his chest. Time seemed to go in slow motion. The sword was falling, Hisoka was crying out in pain as the nails pressed further into his arms, drawing blood. The reflection of the sword shined brightly in his eyes.

The blade peirced his chest, and he let out a final gasp, his body going numb. The sword had gone directly through his heart. His eyes were dull. The woman began to laugh, putting her fingers in the blood puddle appearing around him, drawing on the walls with her nails-

Hisoka screamed. He bolted up in bed, breathing loudly and clamping his hand over his chest. He gulped, tears forming in his eyes. He could still feel the pain in his arms, in his chest, but no wounds.

His mother opened the door quickly, and Hisoka was still gulping in air as if he had been suffocated and nearly died.

"Hisoka! Hisoka, are you alright?"

His father appeared at the door moments later, holding a knife. "If he okay?"

"He's fine. Nobody else is in here, i don't think, turn on the light please."

The light flicked on, and his mother blinked at the sheets over all of the mirrors.

"Hisoka... You had another nightmare, didn't you."

"Y..yes..." Hisoka was beginning to calm down, looking up at the ceiling to see the door shut. "Was... Was I up there at all today?"

"No, not that I know of..."

Hisoka smiled. "Good..."

His father sat next to him. "You alright, son?"

"Yea...Yeah, I think so."

Hisoka slowly leaned back down, setting his head on the pillow. Suddenly, reminding himself much as a child, he whispered, "Mom... Dad... Do you hate me?"

They both smiled, his mother stroking the skin on his arm and is father brushing the bangs from his son's bright green eyes. "Of course not. We could never hate you. You are our son."

Hisoka smiled softly, beginning to close his eyes. "Goodnight..." He whispered, letting his head fall to the side to sleep.

--

The next morning, when Hisoka opened his eyes and then smiled, closing his eyes and yawning. The sunlight brightened the room, reflecting off of the mirrors-

His eyes suddenly snapped open. He jerked awake, jumping out of the bed. All of the windows were uncovered, same went for the mirrors. He could feel eyes staring at him. Dark.. Peircing... evil...

He began to shake. He couldn't move.

"Honey! Breakfast!" His mother shouted, walking upstairs and holding a plate. "Come on!"

"M..Mom.. Why are my mirrors uncovered... and the windows..."

"Oh, it was just _so_ dark in here! I don't understand how you can live this way. Come on."

'_That's just it..'_ Hisoka thought, moving slowly to get off the bed. '_I can't live this way._'

At the breakfast table, Hisoka hardly ate. He only poked at his food, sighing softly.

"Honey.. Why aren't you eating?"

"I'm...I'm not hungry." Hisoka got up from the table quickly. He ran up the stairs before his parents could protest, shutting the door behind him. The feeling of dread was gone.

He straitened, breathing deep, releived at the atmosphere. Maybe... Just maybe... she would leave him alone now. Whoever she was. Carefully, he opened the door and sighed, walking out to the hall.

Just in time to miss a bloody woman in the mirror, smirking and reaching through.

--

At dinner, Hisoka and his father played 'Mortal Kombat', his mother watching and wondering how her son had gotten good enough to defeat his own father. The boy had gotten much brighter and happier once the mirros and windows were uncovered.

"Ha! I win again! Dad, you owe me three days to myself during vacation!"

"Ugh... Hisoka... You're getting better and better." His father smiled. He hadn't been able to bond with his son like this since the dreams started. Once they had, a rift was created between the child and his parents. Sadly, he himself had felt a different atmosphere when his son had come down during breakfast. Something sinister, practically murderous. It had sent shivers up his spine, but he stayed silent. After all, it was just a feeling.

--

That night, when Hisoka entered his room, he was tired. He didn't notice the fact that he left the door open. Didn't notice the fact that his bed was messed up, not the way he usually kept it. Didn't notice bloody handprints on the sheets...

--

The next morning, Hisoka's mom called for him.

And called.

And called.

When her son didn't come down from breakfast, she walked up the stairs to his room.

Hisoka was laying in his bed, blood covered. His eyes were dull, his skin was pale and scarred. Both hands were stuck in the mattress by two small daggers. His body was bare, the only thing covering his naked body was a small sheet, folded and wrapped around his middle like a skirt.

In horror, she leaned towards the wall, her back hitting a solid surface. "Honey!" She screamed, calling for her husband as tears began to form in her eyes.

Racing up, her husband gasped at the sight, fear reflecting in his own eyes. Never before had he seen such brutal aftermath.

In panic, they both ran out of the house, screaming. Curious neighbors went into the house to find nothing wrong. The house was very neat, and the boy's room was especially clean. No blood or body.

But they knew something was wrong. Where _was_ the boy?

Two days later, the mother and father of young Hisoka packed and moved away, heartbroken over the loss of their son. For years, the house lay undisturbed. The whole town gossiped about the events. After awhile, they began to think that maybe they killed the boy themselves, then buried him and went insane with guilt. The house was empty.. Until...

--

"Oh, Tsuzuki! Isn't this beautiful! And cheap, too! Oh, honey, we'll finally have a house to live in instead of that trashy apartment."

Tsuzuki nodded, the seventeen year old smiling and walking across the kitchen. Looking up, he seen a door open, and with curiousity, went up the stairs. "I'm gonna look upstairs, mom!" He shouted, turning the corner into a room.

He loved it. Immeadiatly, this was his room. He knew it HAD to be his room.

He smiled and nodded, walking out and shutting the door behind him.

In a mirror on the opposite wall, a blood-soaked woman holding a young blond boy's shoulders appeared, smirking and laughing softly. The boy opened his eyes, Beginning to smile as well. They dissapeared, and the demonic symbols in the attic flared...

And the terror began once more.

_**MWAHAHA! As you can see, I changed Hisoka's parents. XP I hope this was okay, I worked for two whole days on it. (Which, by the way, isn't very often for a one shot, especially since I was aiming for a ten-minute fic) And if you don't know who the boy is at the end, COME ON PAY ATTENTION!**_

_**Well... I hope you liked this! :) And remember...**_

_**REVIEW PLEASE!**_

_**oh! And if you want to get ahold of me easier, I have a gaia online . com account! I'd love to hear from you, just PM ghostgurl0894. If you want some updates on my OTHER stories before they are even released (Or AS they are being released) Then go to ReSceduledSuicide and look at his Journal. :D PLEASE OH PLEASE PM me on there, because I really want to talk to ya! BAI!**_


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